Secret (Ghostwriting Part Four)

Note: This is the fourth and final (planned) post in our ghostwriting series. Sorry they've been so spread out. Be sure to check out the first three posts: Moral, Famous, and Voice. If you've got questions, enjoyed the series, or just want to say hi, feel free to leave it in the comments.

As soon as I hang up the phone accepting a new ghostwriting offer, I'm giddy. I run around the house like a crazy woman; I giggle uncontrollably. You'd have to try really hard to remove the smile from my face.

Like good family and friends, people who see me ask why I'm so excited.

Here's the thing about ghostwriting: I can't tell them. The job of a ghostwriter is to be invisible. That includes not telling people she wrote that book, article, letter, piece.

When my family/friends ask, sometimes I tell them I have a new ghostwriting opportunity. Sometimes I just smile and smile and smile. Sometimes I'm a bad secret-keeper and blurt out my new opportunity. I am so excited I just can't keep it inside of me. Like a small child who purchased a parent a Christmas present, that present will not remain a secret until Christmas no matter how hard the child tries.

In the original ending of the Gospel of Mark, the women leave the empty tomb and don't tell anyone what they saw.

What if the story ended there?
What if they kept the resurrection of Christ a secret?

Imagine how different life would be. For you. For me. Imagine how different history would be.

Yet don't we do that all of the time? If you call yourself a Christian, then inside of you is the secret of the ressurected Christ. That good news should evoke the same emotion in you that ghostwriting does for me (only moreso). Unceasing smiles, uncontrollable laughter, looking so silly that people ask you what's up.

Um, hello, your debt has been paid in blood and you get to call the Creator of the universe "Daddy."

And I get excited over writing in someone else's name.

Through Christ, we get to live in someone else's name. Forever.

If you're ghostwriting for the Lord, you've got to blurt your "secret."

Are you a child-like ghostwriter bursting to tell or are you leaving the tomb in fear?

<>< Katie

More than a Day

Almost a month ago a switch flipped inside of me. In 0.4 seconds I went from enjoying and appreciating fall to ready to deck the halls. I threatened to make Trick or Treaters pretend they were Christmas carolers before I gave them candy.  (No wonder no one came to my house).

Of course, my passion and excitement for Christmastime has been met with resistance. Everyone wants Thanksgiving to have its day.

Hogwash, I say! Hogwash.

Thanksgiving is not a day, friends; it's a lifestyle!

Let thanksgiving have its day... today and every day!

Yes, I'm eating turkey, sweet potatoes, and pumpkin pie. Yes, I'm participating in the round-table discussion of what we're thankful for.

But it goes beyond today. Since the beginning of September I've been keeping a list of 1,000 things I am thankful for, inspired by Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts.  I just passed thing number 500.

Should I not be further?  Should I not be able to list 1,000 things each day for which I am thankful?  Every breath, every minute...

Here are some highlights from my 1,000 gifts and counting.

I am thankful...
95. For working heat in my car.
100. For friends who are going to make sure I come out of limbo as a prayer warrior.
102. For Sunday lunch.
106. For hunger.
115. For the courage to blog about my struggles.
118. For Your appearance at rock bottom and the willingness to touch hearts of even the most broken people.
126. For the beautiful wet leaf on my sunroof.
149. For self-imported Chinese tea.
160. For warm wash cloths and the reminder You sent me through it.
188. For friends all across the country willing to let me stay with them.
190. For the reminder of what You've done and how You've been faithful.
205. For music videos that leave me with a "bowl full of tears."
208. That it somehow worked to have a queen mattress, king sheets, a twin comforter, and a full quilt.
225. For laughter so hard I can barely breathe.
236. For fifty hugs in eight hours.
245. For a busy schedule.
254. For the reminder that just because our circumstances aren't great doesn't mean You don't love us and we're not in Your will.
274. For peanut butter and chocolate covered pretzels.
280. For encouraging, not awkward, networking meetings.
291. For the ability to contact people around the world with the click of a button.
321. For the beautiful moment we shared during communion and the reminder that I am not worthy yet You grant me grace.
338. For Job who spoke harsh words to You long before I ever did.
342. For fast email responses. (And really email responses in general).
360. That the question is, "How much will I pay for gas?" Not "Will I find gas?" or "Can I afford gas?"
362. For esperar--hope, waiting
372. For a lifestyle of Thanksgiving rather than a day or a month.
387. For nearly-coffee-spewing laughter.
388. For the reminder that You want to fill my cup until it overflows (without cracks)
399. For memories so sweet.
427. For the hair dryer.
437. For Starbucks gift cards.
453. For the heart You've given me for missions and Your children worldwide.
460. For evenings of reading by the fire curled up in a blanket.
465. For the ability to proclaim, "If it's You, I'm in!" and both mean and believe it. To trust it.
474. For online ASL dictionaries.
488. For forgiveness when I sing happy birthday to the wrong person.

Reverse Trick or Treat

It was a few days after Halloween and I was driving across the country.

Sixteen hours. Alone.

I was constantly searching for cheap(er) gas, only stopping at fast food restaurants where I had coupons, and paying half of my life savings to the state of West Virginia in tolls.

I got cranky fast. At two dollars a pop, those tolls were adding up fast. It cost me more to drive through West Virginia than I spent on food, by the way. 

But then I got an idea.

At the next toll booth, I pleasantly greeted the man. What an awful job he has. I handed him a five dollar bill.  He gave me my change. I took it and extended my hand with a Baby Ruth in it.

"Happy Halloween," I said. He laughed. Not a chuckle, not a smirk, not a courteous "that was a joke attempt that wasn't really funny." No, a full-belly laugh.

The gate went up, I wished him a good day and drove off.  Maybe his day really was good. After all, he had a fun size Baby Ruth to munch on until the next driver came.

But my day was good. I had "miles to go before I sleep and miles to go before I sleep" but I also had his laughter bottled up in my memory.

All it took was a piece of candy and a smile. It didn't hurt me a bit.

I've heard it said it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile. The huge bag of Trick or Treat candy was sitting in my passenger seat just waiting, begging to be eaten (maybe that's why I spent so little on food). I don't even like Baby Ruth.  But from this guy's laugh, he does.

Make a difference today. It doesn't hurt much. Laughter overrides cranky.

<>< Katie

Edit Friends

Facebook has this feature near the log-out button: Edit Friends.

How often do we want to edit our friends?

I'd like you to not laugh like that, you to not laugh at that, and you to laugh.
I'd like you to have more compassion, you to stand up for your beliefs, and you to smile.

It's easy to look at others and find faults we desire to edit away and change.

It's harder to look at ourselves and say, "I don't like this about me.  Let's edit that fault."

Yet that is exactly what God does to each of us.  He edits us, His friends, to make us more like Him.

Some edits are simple like moving a comma or turning a neutral face into a smiling one.  Some much more involved.  Ideas that need to be rethought, lifestyles that need to be revised, and plans that need to be removed.

I like editing papers.  I don't always like having my papers edited.

I like critiquing others' personalities and finding their faults.  I don't like having my own pointed out.

But it's necessary.  My grammar's not perfect and neither is my life.

Sometimes softly and other times more sternly, yet always lovingly, God edits us to be more like Him.

"And the Lord—who is the Spirit—makes us more and more like him as we are changed into his glorious image." 2 Corinthians 3:18b NLT

After all, we were created in His image.

<>< Katie

Perfect Timing

A few years ago at an outdoor music festival, I heard Peter Fuller (then the lead-singer of Newsboys) talk about God's perfect timing. In the middle of his statement about how perfect God's timing is, a train horn sounded in near proximity.  The entire audience errupted in laughter. In his heavy Australian accent he looked at us and said, "A train interrupts my concert and you laugh?"

Well, God's perfect timing struck again and there was only nervous laughter.

I'd just gotten out of class at 10pm and was driving back to my apartment from the library. As I approached the stoplight I noticed a car cross the intersection and instinctively slowed down to stop at the white line. It was only then that I glanced up and noticed I had the green light. Maybe there was a malfunction? No, the other car definitely had a red light.

I made a quick glance around for:
Police officers. None. What are the odds?
Other cars. None. Thank goodness.
A green light. Go ahead.

At first, I didn't really think much of it. We all accidently run red lights from time to time. Not a big deal. Besides, it was late, and he probably got sick of waiting for the light to change. I was the only other car around. It wasn't until I was back in the safety of my apartment that I truly realized what had just happened.

Rewind. When I pulled out of my parking space, there was an exit to the left (the direction I needed to go) not far from where I was parked. Instead, I drove an extra thirty seconds, out of my way, to the right exit. Why? I don't know. I guess I just wasn't paying attention. It was 10pm! I'd just gotten out of my last class. Twelve hours earlier, I'd been dismissed from my first class of the day. Yes, one of those days.

It wasn't just because I was tired. It was because if I'd been to the stop light thirty second earlier... well, crash boom bash. We know this story. Been there done that. Unlike last time, this car wasn't starting from a stopped position. He was going and going fast. That could have been a really bad end to a long day.

I cannot take credit for avoiding that collision. I didn't do anything except absent-mindedly leave the parking lot. It was God who perfectly positioned and timed our cars for this to be only a "thanks, God" rather than a "help, God!"

Had any close calls lately? Whether you're aware of them or not, they've happened. Take a minute to thank Him for His perfect timing and arms of protection.

<>< Katie

Green Beans on the Ceiling

Back in the day when my mom fed my sister green beans out of the jar, I learned some life lessons.  Once, Mom accidentally dropped the jar, and green beans went everywhere.  To my four-year-old self, this was fiasco.  The ultimately BIG MESS!  Mommy should have gone to time out. 

But she didn't.  She laughed.  She laughed so hard we had to write a song/poem about it in order for Daddy to fully grasp the magnitude of the mess we (she) made.

Green beans on the ceiling.
Green beans on the floor.
Green beans in the kitchen.
Green beans galore.

There really were green beans everywhere.  We found them splattered on the cabinets fifteen feet away.  We found them on the nine-foot ceiling.  I don't think we could have created such a massive green bean explosion if we had tried.

But Mom wasn't mad.  I panicked.  Mom laughed.  Sure, there was a huge mess to clean up but so what?  It was almost as funny as the time Grandpa sneezed egg all over the wall.

In that moment, she taught me that messes are ok.  She taught me to laugh at myself.  She taught me sometimes things don't happen was we plan but that doesn't mean it's the end of the world.

And she did it all with a jar of green beans.

Learning to decorate with green beans,
<>< Katie

The Painful Smile

Allyson and I were joking around when suddenly she stopped smiling and gripped the top of her head. The night before she'd gone to the ER for a head injury and came home five hours later with the hiccups. She explained that being hit on the head with a color guard flag made smiling a painful experience. Allyson smiles a lot, and to be able to not do it is... well... painful.

I can relate. I'm not really sure what I did but for two days freshman year it hurt to laugh. For two days I had a huge smile but I refused to laugh. You don't realize how often you laugh until you can't.

The world is not a fun place when smiles and laughter cause pain. It's miserable. Smiles and laughter are things God created for good and instead they were being used for evil.

How often does that happen? All too often.

Money, food, entertainment, and a million other things have been created for God's glory only to be tragically transformed by human wickedness. Instead of looking to others with love and self-sacrifice, we hoard for personal gain. Instead of honoring Him in what we watch, how we spend our money, and the words we use, we are frivolous and careless.

God created sex. (gasp!) It was a gift to man and woman to enjoy within the confines of marriage. Too often it's used in other scenarios making it less special. Less sacred. Less about God Himself.

God created me for a special purpose. Too often I disregard His plan and pursue my own. My words are full of hatred and grumpiness rather than compassion and grace. (gasp, again!)

No wonder the world is miserable. We're misusing His creation. The things He created for good we are using for evil. Of course it's causing pain. Our pain and His.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, let's reclaim the smile. The laughter. The finances. The sex. The entertainment. The word choice. Let's reclaim what it means to be a Christian by showing His love.

<>< Katie

Providing Today's Entertainment

Well, we did it again.  Mom and I single-handily entertained everyone we encountered today.

It started innocently enough: I needed new glasses.  After church, we went to the mall and meandered towards the eye doctor's office.  Well, they didn't have any appointments until 2:15, so we ventured into the mall.  An hour and half later, we returned.

It was the same ole spiel.  "Can you read these letters?  What numbers are in dots?" I almost have that book memorized.  "Take your contacts out.  Now can you read the letters?  This puff if your eye is going to make you jump but it won't hurt.  Have a seat right here.  The doctor will see you shortly."

So there we sat.  Me half blind; Mom laughing at me.

The doctor came out and called my sister's name.  I almost, automatically, stood and corrected him.  People confuse my for my sister all of the time.  But there was another patient standing, so Mom and I just laughed.

Then he came back and asked for someone with my dad's name.  "Actually, this is Katie," Mom whispered to me.  We had another good laugh.

I've been going to this same place in the mall for years, but this was a new doctor I'd never met before.  You figure if he was working Sunday afternoon he probably wasn't very high on the totem pole.  However, every time he came back, we noticed he had a smile.  Well, Mom noticed. I just saw him as a big purple and black blob, but I think we have matching purple shirts.  We figured he was enjoying his job.

Finally, the doctor came out and called my name.  With a hand outstretched, he introduced himself.

"I can't see you," I said with a laugh.  He chuckled, I found his hand, and we shook. 

Then he led me back to the exam room.  "Just feel around until you find the big chair," he said.  My turn to laugh.  I'm not quite that blind. 

The exam went well, albeit not uneventful.
Doctor: Healthy blood flow.
Katie: Oh, good.
Doctor: No signs of glaucoma.
Katie: Oh, good.
Doctor: Your prescription needs to be updated but all looks good.
Katie: Oooh, yay!
He laughed.

To do: Entertain Opthamologist.  Check

Next on the to-do list was the more daunting task of picking out new glasses.  I narrowed it down to two but could not decide between them. 

Number one...
or
number two...

Finally, I put them both on at the same time to compare the two.  Well, someone saw me with two pairs of glasses on (and contacts back in by this point) and just started laughing.

To do: Entertain other patients.  Check.

The last thing we had to do was check out.  The store was super busy that day, so by this point Mom and I had been there for over an hour (not including the almost two hours we stalled prior to my appointment).  We were ready to go home.  Meaning we were more giggly, if that's possible.

Just in case the conversation between Mom and I wasn't enough to entertain the clerk, we threw her some jokes, too.  Most of which I don't remember.  I do remember she had a sheepish laugh when I told her I loved how her glasses matched her shirt.

To do: Entertain sales clerk.  Check.

Then she handed us the bill, and I was thoroughly confused: why were we paying to be their comic relief on a Sunday afternoon?

<>< Katie

"Keep on loving each other as brothers. Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it." Hebrews 13:1-2

"Two in the Bed and the Little One Said..."

Everyone was still over watching Glee one Thursday night last year, but I had a different agenda: avoid the sixteen people in the living room and get to bed.

I accomplished my mission and was ready to head into dream-world when the bedroom door opened, shining light into my dark room.  I thought it was my roommate.  Until I saw a head pop up at the foot of my bed.  I slept in a loft last year, just far enough away from the ceiling that I could sit straight up.  The only people that climbed up there were me and whoever was attached to the head at the foot of my bed.

The head became shoulders and she army crawled towards me.

"Katie," she hissed.  "Are you asleep?"

I considered faking it, but I could not stifle my laughter.

"I didn't get a good night hug."

Melia crawled all of the way up to the head of my bed, gave me a hug, crawled backwards, and tried to climb down the ladder.  The ladder was built for me, and I am literally eight inches taller than she is.

This started a long-standing joke about how Melia was going to sleepover one night and sleep in my bed.

"I get the wall," she always called.  If someone was falling six feet out of bed, it was going to have to be me.

Over the summer, we shared a double bed one night.  But there was no wall side.

Last weekend, we had three friends visit us, all of whom needed places to sleep.  Our futon folds down to sleep two, but the third was out of luck.

Katie: Melia can sleep with me.
Melia: Seriously?
Katie: As long as I get the wall.

My bed is only four feet off of the ground this year, but that's still not a fall I want to make.

On Sunday night, Melia and I jumped into my bed and were pleasantly surprised to discover we both fit.  We had an agreement.  If either one of us couldn't sleep, we were going to take a spare blanket and sleep on the loveseat.  No hurt feelings.

Jennifer: If you guys can't sleep, wake me up.  One of you can sleep in my bed, and I'll sleep on the floor."

Jennifer seriously can sleep anytime, anywhere.  There are nights I'm up working on homework with the light on, music playing, and paper shuffling when I look over and notice she is asleep.

Melia: Do you have enough space?
Katie: Yup.  Do you have enough pillow?
Melia: Yes.  If I get too hot, I'm just going to do what I did this summer and throw all of the covers on you.
Katie: Perfect!

In the morning, Melia and I compared notes.  We both slept well.  I wasn't cold, first time ever.  The only real challenge was rolling over, but I only got poked in the eye once.

Jennifer had different notes.  She got a horrible night's sleep.  Quite possibly because she was afraid she would wake one of us up if she rolled over.  Now that's selflessness!  To be afraid to roll over at night because one of the girls in the other bed might wake up.

<>< Katie

Sleepovers: College Style

Allyson said over the summer she'd get really homesick for our suite, so she would go through and read my old blogs about some of the crazy things we did. This post is really for Allyson, but if you want to read it, too, that's allowed.

Jennifer had finished doing her devotion, we had said good-night, and we were both in bed trying to fall asleep. Well, I was making a mental list of what hurts because I'm getting sick, and she was trying to plug in her phone. Either way, we were both headed to dreamland when the door burst open and light revealed a silhouette in the doorway.

“Jennifer!” Allyson whisper-shouted. “Jennifer!”

Allyson skipped into the dark room and jumped onto Jennifer’s bed. She had something important to tell Jennifer, but she forgot what it was. Instead we just sat there giggling. Shortly thereafter, Nikki ran into the room.

“FEET!” I shouted to remind her that I have them.

I’m still not really sure how this happened.  You need to know, my bed is waist high.  My waist, not Nikki's.  Normally she falls on it and it's really awkward and humorous to watch.  This time, I was in my bed and she somehow leaped onto the bed, dodged my feet, flipped over me, and positioned herself right up against the wall.

Amy heard our giggles and screaming and came to investigate. She hopped onto Jennifer’s bed and the three of them sat cross-legged while we told stories, teased each other, and laughed. It was kind of like a sleepover. Minus the sleep part, but does that really happen at sleepovers anyway?

Like all good things, this too came to an end. Nikki left first, followed by Allyson, but Amy stayed to tuck Jennifer and me in again. As she was closing the door, Jennifer and I let out child-like cries.

“Allyson! Allyson! You have to sing us a lullaby.”

She complied and allowed us to pick our song of choice. I said the first lullaby that popped into my head, “My Little Buck-a-roo.” Allyson stood in the middle of our room, invented the song and accompanying dance moves on the fly, and made us laugh so hard we had to use the restroom.

We got lost on the way back from the bathroom and ended up in Amy and Allyson’s room. Jennifer on Amy’s bed and me on Allyson’s. Nikki stood in the middle and told us a thrilling fairy tale about how Allyson is the keeper of the butterfly bodies because she is so pure. Thus begins the tradition of bedtime storytelling by Nikki Raye.

Before the end of year we will each have individual stories by the lovely and talented Nikki Raye. Each will be told orally, recorded, drawn, and published for Amy to someday use in her classroom. The stories completed are: Allyson, Queen of the Butterflies and Nikki, The Lovely and Vicious Princess Finds her Prince (told by Katie and starring Jennifer and Amy).  Mine will probably be a horror story that will not be appropriate for young audiences...

After a knocking-through-the-walls rendition of "Jingle Bells" we were all in our respective beds and ready for a good, long night of z-catching.  Shockingly most of us still managed eight hours of sleep.  Elizabeth was jealous she missed this camaraderie.

<>< Katie

Concierge Adam

Today is Adam's birthday, and even though he doesn't read this blog, I feel compelled to write him a birthday blog. Yesterday my suitemates were taking turnings asking if they were in my blog. Without thinking, I could answer yes. Then it was Adam's turn, and I hesitated. Most of my funny memories with Adam are eye glances and smiles that cannot be explained in words. It's like we understood something no one else did but cannot voice our thoughts. How do you blog to explain why I just shot him a dirty look for closing the door?

Last September, we were just getting used to living in a new building with co-ed laundry facilities. Nikki had left her laundry in the drying a bit too long and returned to find them folded. In a panic, she walked into the breezeway,

"A BOY FOLDED MY CLOTHES!!" She shouted, wearing her hamper on her head and waving her hands for emphasis. This fiasco created quite a spectacle.

"How do you know it was a boy?" Everyone asked.

"Because! The underwear is folded on top. A girl would NEVER leave another girl's underwear on top. Girls ALWAYS know to tuck the underwear inside the top shirt. It's just common courtesy."

This became a major discussion for the next several hours.

"Oh, those were your clothes I folded," Adam fessed up when he heard Nikki's rampage about a boy folding her clothes.

"ADAM TOUCHED MY PANTIES!" She shouted loud enough for the entire building to hear. Of course, everyone loved to tease about Adam and Nikki's panties.

A few weeks later, Adam left clothes unfolded in the dryer and waited for the owner to return to reclaim the clothes and vacate the dryer.

"I got fussed at last time I tried to fold someone's clothes," he explained.

One afternoon, Allyson, Adam, and I were playing Rack-O on the floor in the living room. Elizabeth was in the kitchen chopping an apple with her back to us.

"How was the end of your book?" Adam asked.

"I don't know. Well, you see, this person that was dead isn't dead anymore. And now there was this prophesy about Percy, and we don't know if that's good or bad..." She explained for literally five straight minutes with an elaborate plot summary.

"Oh?" Adam asked "What do you think about that?"

"I don't really know. I like that the person who was dead isn't dead anymore, I think, but Percy..." she continued for five more minutes before finally turning around to face us.

Much to her surprise, Adam, Allyson, and I were all trying really hard to stifle our laughter. We were expecting a simple, "It turned out well" or "I want to read the next book in the series" or "I didn't like the ending" and instead got a detailed plot summary followed by Elizabeth's thoughts on the novel.

Yes, Adam egged her on, but she thought he was genuinely interested in the novel. While we all found this hilarious, she was "offended" and stormed to her bedroom for a few hours. :-) We joke about it now, though. Periodically we'll ask for a Percy update and she just go "Humph!"


I love it when Adam and Allyson go on "dates" but can't get off campus because it often involves them cleaning our living room. Luckily, our fussing hasn't stopped him from doing our dishes, emptying our garbage, and tidying up our living room.

Happy birthday, Concierge Adam! Thanks for your willingness to serve, your witty humor, and how comfortable you make yourself in our apartment.
<>< Katie